


Quantity

by sakesushimaki



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: M/M, Post-Canon, Romance, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-15
Updated: 2011-10-15
Packaged: 2017-10-24 15:56:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/265315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakesushimaki/pseuds/sakesushimaki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brian faces some statistic truths. About condoms and the like.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quantity

The email pings its arrival one Sunday afternoon.

 _Dear customer,  
this is your automatic reminder from CONDOMDEPOT.com.  
Would you like to renew your regular order of the 100 pack of LifeStyle Ultra Lubricated Condoms? Please click here._

Brian frowns. He walks up the stairs into the bedroom and peers into the drawer of the nightstand. There are still a good thirty condoms in there. Brian frowns some more.

With the 100 pack he is usually good for four or five months before he orders new ones.

Back at the computer, he checks his purchase history. It’s been five months now since he ordered last.

Something isn’t right.

He goes up into the bedroom again, yanks open the drawer and checks that stupid box that holds the other condoms, the ones he only uses with Justin. The ones that cost twice as much as the others and are supposed to be some hypoallergenicwhateverthefuck. The ones he actually has to pick up from that one drug store that’s totally out of the way. The ones that feel a bit thinner and amazing.

Then again, he isn’t entirely sure if it’s the condoms that make sex with Justin so much better.

Still, Justin is a princess.

After inspection, he realizes that he is almost out of those.

Something is definitely wrong here. Very wrong.

Brian does some quick calculations, but the outcome is always the same.

He’s been using less _trick condoms_. He’s been…

No, this can’t be right. Especially with Justin in the Big Apple most of the time!

 

+

 

So, it is the stress, clearly.

He runs a very successful business, after all. He simply doesn’t have as much time nowadays. And the times he actually does have, well, _time_ , are those he makes free for Justin’s monthly visits and he’s kind of preoccupied with Justin’s hypoallergenic ass then.

Brian decides to forget about it.

 

+

 

It’s not as if he has planned it.

He couldn’t have, really. In the past couple of months, he’s all but forgotten about it, restrained himself whenever his mind would drift off to his crazy new idea.

But it slips out anyway.

He’s fucking Justin, sheets damp and air stuffy, and he’s molding himself to Justin’s body with practically no leverage because for some reason, he doesn’t want there to be even an inch of space between them, when it happens.

He’s nudging Justin’s prostate slowly, eating his broken moans, tasting his delicious sweat, when he mumbles, “God, I want… I want you raw.”

He watches as pupils dilate, holds as Justin convulses around him, sees white when he comes himself.

 

+

 

They don’t talk about it.

Justin is shipped off to the city for another three or four weeks and Brian has time to get rid of that ridiculous idea and ask himself what the fuck he had been thinking.

 

+

 

The freak-out happens at Babylon. In the backroom, of all places.

Brian storms to his car, pants not even fully zipped up, tiny glitter particles stuck to his sweaty forehead.

His cell rings just as he’s starting the ignition.

“No, Mikey, I’m okay. … Nah, just enough for the day. … Yeah, no, I’m really okay, don’t worry. … I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He can’t exactly tell Mikey that he just fucked two hot guys and spent the whole time imagining fucking Justin. Without a condom.

He drives with an open window. The twenty degrees outside will help clear his head.

When he gets home, he finds a new reminder from condomdepot.com in his inbox.

 

+

 

The cursor blinks against the white background. After having stared at it for the past fifteen minutes, Brian thinks that the blinking has become slower.

 _Simple honesty_ , he thinks, and finally starts typing.

 

 _I can’t get the thought of my naked dick inside your ass out of my head. Believe me, I’ve tried._

 _Hypothetically, if I were to propose we wait those famous three months and don’t fuck any third parties, would you be opposed to the idea? I would be willing to take care of the additional air fare that would come up during those months, as well as take over 50% of the travelling._

 _B._

 

Brian holds his breath only a little bit before he hits _send_.

“Shit,” he curses a minute later and quickly opens up a second email.

 _P.S. I love you_ , he writes and sends the message on its way too.

He hopes it will do.

Brian spends the rest of the day fake-reviewing the quarterly report and wondering about when he started sounding like romantic novel titles.

**Author's Note:**

> sequel: **[Quality](http://archiveofourown.org/works/265318)**


End file.
